


No Wonder It Hurts

by MKittyUltra, PollyMajor_AKA_ughvengersassemble



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester One Shot, Drabble, Human Castiel, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:56:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1966314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MKittyUltra/pseuds/MKittyUltra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PollyMajor_AKA_ughvengersassemble/pseuds/PollyMajor_AKA_ughvengersassemble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response to THIS prompt by tumblr user damn-it-jim-im-a-blogger: One of you guys that loves me should write a human!cas destiel fic where cas gets full back wing tattoos</p><p>Unfortunately I have no idea who you are, but I am currently extremely bored and I happened across this cutie patootie of a prompt so here you go happy Wednesday <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Wonder It Hurts

"Why are you sitting like there’s a rod up your ass?" Dean accused, slumping into the seat at the table in the bunker’s study, opposite Castiel. As usual, the table was crowded with stacks of paper and books, the grey and white monotony broken only by quickly sketched anatomical drawings and clusters of colored pens like wild flowers. Sam wasn’t up and wouldn’t be for hours, but Dean had already been out for his morning run and brewed a whole pot of fresh coffee. 

"A what up my ass?" Cas asked, barely looking up from his text book. Dean rolls his eyes and plonks one of the two mugs he’s been clutching in front of him. Still rigid as a board, Cas takes it and sips. The look on his face was orgasmic, until he winced. Dean frowned.

"Seriously, man - what’s up with you?" Dean asked him. Cas sighed and smoothed the book’s pages with the palms of both of his hands. 

"I’m in a little," he paused to wince again, "just a little bit of pain," he admitted with a grimace. Dean frowned deeper. 

"What you do this time?" he asked, concerned. He had a habit of doing stupid shit like forgetting to sleep or burning his hand on the side of pans. You wouldn’t want to get Dean started on the time he sprained his ankle and tried to walk around on it for three weeks and insisting nothing was wrong with it until one time Dean happened to noticed his ankle was about as thick as his thigh and twigged something was wrong with it. "You got to take care of yourself better, Cas; you know human bodies don’t heal up the way angel bodies do," Dean reminded him. 

"Yes, thank you Dean. I’m fully aware of the limits of the human body," Cas snapped. Dean raised an eyebrow; what had got his panties in a twist? He noticed then that Cas had dark purple shadows under his eyes.

"Did you sleep at all last night?” Dean asked. Cas glared at him.

"As a matter of fact, no. I didn’t," he replied, and took another sip of his coffee. He winced again and Dean slammed his own mug onto the table, brown liquid sloshing over the edge and soaking into Cas’ research.

"Damn it Cas if you don’t tell what’s wrong I’ll punch you in the face to take your mind off it, now what the hell is bugging you?" Dean growled. Cas sighed.

"I got a tattoo," Cas explained. 

"You got five minutes before- wait what?" Dean pulled himself up short. Cas was watching him steadily; there was no hint of a lie in his wide blue eyes, and it wasn’t as if the guy was known for his quick-thinking humor. "You. You got a tattoo?" Dean asked in disbelief. Cas nodded once, tersely. Dean groaned; christ it was probably some godawful tacky catch phrase or something like that. He dreaded to think. 

"I’m in a small amount of pain," Cas admitted. Dean clucked his tongue.

"Yeah, tattoos hurt, dumbass. They’re also permanent, so I hope you like whatever stupid design you picked out," Dean grumbled. Cas looked hurt. 

"I don’t think the design is stupid," he mumbled. 

"Sure you don’t now, but when the reality of having some lame-ass drawing etched into your skin for the rest of your life-" Dean began, but Cas looked as though he was about to cry. "What?" Dean asked, folding his arms across his chest defensively. Cas looked down at the table and said nothing. Dean rolled his eyes. Cas still said nothing. He sniffed. Dean sighed. "Alright, I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s not completely lame-ass…" Dean grumbled noncommittally. Cas seemed to actually be pouting. Dean groaned. "Maybe you can show me?" Dean attempted hopefully. 

Castiel lifted his head. His eyes were all watery and hopeful. He put a lot of stock in Dean’s opinions. Maybe he should try a little harder to give him a break… but he sort of liked to have Cas constantly pandering for his approval. 

"I mean, unless it’s on your butt or something because in that case, thanks but no thanks," Dean scoffed. If Sam were there he’d have said he was ‘over-compensating’. But Sam is a dick so what does he know? Nothing. Yeah, maybe he wouldn’t mind a little peek at Cas’ ass, you know, just to see if it looked as good naked as the way it looked in those jeans implied…

Cas stood up and awkwardly began to remove his sweater. Dean cleared his throat and crossed his legs, you know, in case. 

Then he gasped.

"Holy cow, Cas…" Dean spluttered. "No wonder it hurts." 

The creamy skin of Cas’ back was covered with perfect, delicate black lines that formed intricate feathers that overlapped and undulated over the contours of his muscles. He’d got his wings back. Dean felt a little choked up. They started right at the peak of his shoulders and their tapered ends were hidden under his pants. Dean guessed they probably went the whole way over the cheeks of his ass and onto his thighs. The overall effect was perhaps a little spoiled by the clingfilm wrapped around Cas’ torso, but still - the tattoos were breath taking. 

"Do you think they are lame-ass?" Cas asked sadly, wincing as he peered over his shoulder to look at Dean.

"Hell no. They’re… they’re gorgeous," he admitted. He was a little awed, in fact. 

"The man in the shop said I need to clean them," Cas explained. "Only… only I can’t reach to do it myself." He added in a quiet voice.

Dean’s heart rate picked up. He licked his lips. 

"You know what? I just might be able to help you out there."


End file.
